In the Arms of the Angel
by Zabet
Summary: Chapter 13 up - aren't you proud? Harry is offered a wonderful gift, but a horrible choice – James, Lily, or Sirius? [Obviously] post-OotP.
1. Chapter One

Title: In the Arms of the Angel  
  
Authors: KittyKaty (with conceptual assistance from her somewhat-annoying- but-still-cute, Harry-Potter-obsessed step brother, Noah).  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Harry is offered a wonderful gift, but a horrible choice - James, Lily, or Sirius? Post OotP (coughSPOILERScough).  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR?! What are you talking about - of course I am! *blinks* Oh, never mind...I own Liviana (no, not the same Liviana from "Everything you Know is Wrong"), not Harry, or Ron, or Hermione, or Sirius, or Dumbledore, or...you see where I'm going with this? Okay then...Oh, yeah, and the title & lyrics are from the song "Angel" by Sarah McLaughlan.  
  
*~Chapter One~*  
  
"...in the arms of an angel, fly away from here...  
  
...you're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort there..."  
  
~Sarah McLaughlan, Angel~  
  
Harry Potter's 16th birthday was perhaps a dark and stormy night. Or perhaps it was a clear, sunny day. Either way to Harry, it didn't matter. This was because he really couldn't tell - for the first time in five years, he found himself locked in the small, dingy cupboard under the stairs. Despite the warning the Dursley's had received from Moody, Lupin, and the Weasleys at Kings Cross Station, they hadn't allowed 16-year- old Harry any contact to the outside world - wizarding or muggle. Upon arrival at number 4, Vernon Dursley had promptly thrown Harry into the small cupboard, and locked him in. As Harry had massaged his now-bruised arm, Vernon had yelled through the door that he would not put his family in danger just because some power-hungry freak had picked Harry as his next target. From what Harry could tell by eavesdropping through the cupboard door, Vernon had told any muggle who asked that Harry had finally been arrested and shipped off to the penitentiary.  
  
Harry was only allowed out twice a day to use the washroom (with the blinds closed, of course, so no one would spot "the boy"), and every evening Aunt Petunia's bony hand shoved a pitiful meal in through the door - water and stale bread, water and old soup, or whatever was lying around in the back of the fridge that didn't really smell quite right. As in his second year, Harry was forced to share a part of his meal with Hedwig, who was also locked in the cupboard with him.  
  
Harry sighed. The only thing he could do while locked in his small cupboard was dwell on the fact that, were it not for his superiority complex, he would never have rushed to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius would still be alive. He had once again cost someone close to him their life. He closed his eyes, trying to block out these thoughts, but was only haunted by images of Sirius, Cedric, James and Lily. He had single-handedly managed to get them all killed, all because of some stupid prophecy he didn't even know about.  
  
A small part of his mind, the selfish part that sounded suspiciously like Draco Malfoy, told Harry that it wasn't his fault. Dumbledore was to blame. Dumbledore should have forced himself into the role of the Potter's Secret Keeper. He should have realized that Mad Eye Moody was really Barty Crouch Jr. And he most certainly should have told Harry about the prophecy, and why it was so imperative that he study Occlumency to the best of his abilities.  
  
But Harry dismissed these thoughts as quickly as they had come. Dumbledore wasn't God, and he couldn't predict the future. He had always made every choice in Harry's best interests, and had never intentionally put him or his loved ones in harm's way. Harry knew that making excuses for his mistakes was pointless, because it would never bring them back. It would never bring Sirius back. Harry angrily wiped the fast-forming tears out of his eyes. What right did he have to cry over them? It was his fault they were dead.  
  
Harry heard the telephone ring quietly out in the sitting room. Not that it really mattered to him who it was, but it gave him something to listen to. He pressed his ear to the door as someone picked up the phone. He pulled it back quickly, though, when he heard the unintelligible outraged shouts of his uncle. Maybe that wasn't the something he wanted to listen to, he told himself.  
  
In an attempt to distract himself, Harry let his eyes wander over the contents of the cramped cupboard. The advantage to being locked in the cupboard under the stairs (if there was such a thing) was that not only did it house himself and Hedwig, but also all of his school things. Of course, this also made for even less room then there had been to begin with. Harry had successfully managed to get anything major, such as his trunk and his Firebolt, underneath of the small bed. However, Hedwig's cage sat at the end of the bed, because there was no room for it anywhere else. This made sleeping quite difficult.  
  
Glancing around, Harry spotted a small gold ring on a chain perched on the shelf at the head of his bed. Scolding himself for being so stupid as to remove it, he picked it up and placed it around his neck. Turning the small cupboard light on, he pulled the ring closer to his face, and read the inscription along the inside of the ring for what seemed like the millionth time.  
  
"A place for everything, and everything in its place."  
  
Unbeknownst to Ron and Hermione, Professor Dumbledore had given the ring to Harry just before the end of term. It was not a ring, but a portkey. Dumbledore had told him that, should his home come under attack, he was to use the password Dumbledore had taught him, and it would transport him directly to Hogwarts. The password was "prongs".  
  
However, Dumbledore had told him that he was to use it for nothing short of a full blown Death Eater attack, and Harry had listened. He knew that if the Dursley's didn't let him out of the cupboard at the end of the summer to return to Hogwarts, someone would come for him. Until then, a small part of his brain told him that being locked in for the whole summer was the least he could suffer for getting Sirius killed. Harry desperately tried to ignore this voice. He was starting to feel as though he had his own personal Dementor, making him relive every horrible event in his life.  
  
Harry lay down as much as was possible on the cramped bed, and stuffed his face into his musty pillow. Though he had had some horrible birthdays over the years, this definitely topped the list as the worst ever. The last thought Harry had as he drifted into a fitful sleep was the fact that he didn't know when Sirius' birthday had been.  
  
***  
  
Several hundred miles away, at number 12 Grimmauld Place, Ron Weasley was quietly eating his dinner. It was his best friend, Harry Potter's, birthday. Ron had sent him his present earlier that day, which had included a cake made by his mother, a golden snitch that Ron had seen at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and some fudge and other pastries that had been made by his older brothers, Fred and George, and his younger sister, Ginny. Ron had been sure to clearly mark which sweets had been made by the twins.  
  
After helping his mother clean up the dishes, Ron had headed up to his room for bed, realizing how late it was. He'd been quite down since this summer, because of Sirius' death and the fact that he hadn't received a single letter from Harry yet. He knew that Harry was upset about Sirius, and he wanted to talk to his friend about it. Ron was quite upset, too - he'd grown very close to Sirius during last summer. However, he didn't want to say anything to upset Harry further. And if their first conversation last summer had been any indication, it probably wouldn't take much.  
  
Yawning, Ron pulled on his pajamas and crawled into his bed. He curled into his pillow and was nearly asleep when he heard a sharp tap at his window. Stretching and cursing under his breath, he trudged out of bed and over to the window, opening it. Two birds flew in - Errol, the old feeble family owl, and his own owl, Pigwidgeon. The thing that registered first in his still-tired brain was that Errol was still weighed down by all Harry's presents. A spark of panic rose in Ron. Before he could turn and run down the stairs, he realized that Pig was hooting around his head frantically, looking quite panicked as well. Pig had been at Hermione's, hadn't he? Why did he look so upset?  
  
Ron quickly pulled the note off of Pig's leg and opened the parchment. He read his other best friend's hasty note:  
  
RON!!  
  
The presents I sent with Pig for Harry just came back, and Pig looked quite harassed. As soon as it happened, I tried to telephone him at the Dursley's, but his uncle yelled and said that there had never been anyone there by that name, and if I tried to hurt his family, he'd call the police (muggle Aurors). Tell someone at the Order to go get him IMMEDIATELY.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Now certain that something was not right, Ron rushed down the stairs to show the letter to his parents. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: I really hate Author's Notes, so I'll keep this short. First, I'd like to thank my first (and only) reviewer, Achilles4. I can't tell you who he picks yet, but the choice itself will come up in...Chapter 4, I believe. To anyone else who reads this, just a little note I forgot to mention last time - reviews are welcome, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be promptly flamed, so don't waste your breath. Thanks.  
  
For Ashley.  
  
*~Chapter Two~*  
  
"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."  
  
~Albus Dumbledore; Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix~  
  
Harry was immensely confused. Only a moment ago, he was falling into a fitful sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, pondering Sirius' birthday. Where was he now? And how could he have arrived so quickly?  
  
He stood at the edge of a clearing surrounded by thick forest. It was pitch black, and the only light came from a series of levitating candles circling the center of the clearing. There were several dozen hooded, black robed figures around the edge of the candles, and a man stood in the very center of them all. But it couldn't be a man, thought Harry, because his eyes were flaming red, and his nose appeared to be that of a snake.  
  
Harry suddenly felt as though someone had poured a bucket of ice into his stomach. He'd recognize that face anywhere...Voldemort. Realizing exactly what was happening, Harry cursed Professor Snape's pride, and his refusal to further Harry's Occlumency lessons. His thoughts came to a halt as the snake/man began to speak in a low hiss.  
  
"I have waited long enough," he whispered menacingly, pacing the circle. "I did not wish to make an attack of this scale, for fear that our world would become aware of my return." The man stopped pacing and eyed the woman in front of him; Harry could not see her face through the Death Eater mask. Voldemort eyed her angrily. "However, thanks to the blunder of my servants, that is no longer an issue."  
  
The woman fell to her knees at the feet of the Dark Lord, sobbing. "Forgive me master!" she howled over and over. With a twinge of hatred, Harry recognized the voice as Bellatrix Lestrange's; Sirius' murderer. Voldemort sneered.  
  
"Silence, you foolish girl," he growled over her cries, but she continued to weep. Voldemort whipped out his wand. "Cruico!" Harry's scar felt as though it had exploded; he heard the screams of Lestrange through the white hot pain. After a few moments, the screams abruptly stopped, and Harry struggled to regain his composure. He saw Lestrange doing the same.  
  
"Now where was I, before I was so rudely interrupted?" spat Voldemort. "Ah, yes. As I was saying, now that my presence is known, I need not hesitate to attack the boy." Voldemort now had Harry's undivided attention. The boy...they must be talking about Harry. "I also no longer need him to gain access to the Department of Mysteries." Lestrange whimpered, but said nothing. "Therefore, we attack tonight."  
  
Harry's insides went cold. How on earth were they going to attack him? Hadn't Dumbledore told him he was safe at the Dursleys? Was Voldemort mistaken? Harry struggled with these thoughts, all the while trying to focus on what Voldemort was saying.  
  
"The fact remains that Potter is protected by his feeble muggle relatives. However, I believe they underestimate the power by which their blood is protecting the boy. We must get them out of the way swiftly. That will not be difficult. Once they are out of the picture, getting to Potter will be laughably simple." Smirking, Voldemort held up a boney hand covered in blue veins. "His blood runs through my veins."  
  
Voldemort whirled around, facing the Death Eaters. "There is no better way to begin my rein of terror than by killing the wizarding world's greatest hero. Once again, the world will cower before Lord Voldemort!"  
  
A sinister cheer rose from the gathered Death Eaters, and in the blink of an eye, each one of the disapparated.  
  
***  
  
"Mom! Dad!" Ron Weasley came thundering down the stairs, waking the portrait of Mrs. Black in the process. He ignored her screams.  
  
"MOM, DAD!" Ron burst into the kitchen, and was met by his mother and father, as well as Remus Lupin and a blue haired Nymphadora Tonks. They were all looking at him curiously. Mr. Weasley was on his feet in a moment.  
  
"What's the problem, Ron?" he asked worriedly, glancing at the parchment in his son's hands. "What's this?"  
  
Ron shoved the parchment at his father to read. "Hermione just sent me this with Pigwidgeon; Errol arrived at the same time. He was carrying all the presents I'd sent to Harry." Mr. Weasley was quickly reading over the parchment, his eyes widening.  
  
"What is it, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley. Ron looked at his mother, and started to talk very rapidly and without taking a breath, much like Hermione.  
  
"Hermione's presents came back as well, she tried to call Harry, but his uncle said he'd never lived there and that if she did anything -"  
  
"He'd call the muggle authorities," finished Arthur, looking quite shaken. "Ron, have you received any letters from Harry this summer?" Ron shook his head.  
  
"I figured he was just upset about Sirius, you know," Ron paled, and looked apologetically at Lupin, who smiled sadly at him. "I didn't want to send him any letters because, well, after his reaction to us keeping him in the dark last summer, I thought he'd be upset easily." Ron shook his head angrily. "I should have done something sooner - what if the muggles have hurt him? What if he's run away?"  
  
Lupin looked very grave. "What if Voldemort's got him?" Ron flinched at the name, but paled at the thought. What if Voldemort had him indeed? The thought hadn't even occurred to Ron.  
  
The room was suddenly very quiet - Mrs. Black's screams from the hallway had stopped. Ron turned just as three bleary-eyed redheads trudged into the kitchen.  
  
"Wha's the noise 'bout?" moaned a tired Ginny, unconsciously sitting on Lupin's lap, and pulling her house coat closer. "'s midnight!" Lupin smiled amusedly at the young girl, and pulled her in closer. She sighed contentedly and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thanks," she mumbled, slowly drifting back to sleep.  
  
"Yeah really, George and I had a hell of a time trying to shut the old broad up," Fred muttered, gesturing towards the hallway.  
  
"And what's Ron yelling about?" added George.  
  
"No one's heard from Harry all summer, and all the gifts were sent back," Ron explained quickly, handing the note to his brothers to read. They paled. Ginny came closer to consciousness at this, and turned towards her brother.  
  
"s'he alright?" she asked, yawning.  
  
"We don't know," said Tonks, glancing at the fireplace, "but I think we'd best go talk to Dumbledore about this." She grabbed the small container of floo powder, and then sighed. "I suppose you'll all be wanting to come, then?" The children nodded in agreement. Their parents didn't protest, but rushed them towards the crackling fire as they hurried to get to Dumbledore's office.  
  
***  
  
Harry sat up sharply in his cupboard, drenched in a cold sweat. Hedwig let out a small, comforting hoot.  
  
"They're coming," Harry said frantically to the owl, rummaging around in the dark for his glasses. Finding them, he put them on his face. He reached up to turn the light on, but thought better of it. Squinting in the dark, he looked around for the one thing he knew he needed now more than ever - his wand. Even Mafalda Hopkirk couldn't fault him for protecting himself against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
Harry's hands instinctively went to his neck. He sighed in relief when he felt the gold chain there, and he pulled the ring out over his shirt. He was tempted to use it, but thought better of it. The Dursleys were in trouble. They may not love me, Harry thought, and I may not love them, but it's my duty to protect them. They're only muggles; they could never comprehend what sinister plot was, even now, being carried out by the darkest of dark wizards.  
  
Shushing Hedwig's incessant hooting and holding his breath, Harry leaned his ear against the cupboard door.  
  
And was met with the sound of high pitched, cruel laughter in the distance. 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: OK, I know some people will be disappointed, but this has to be said. I appreciate all my reviewers, and I read every review (as does Noah, who enjoys knowing real people are reading this). However, I despise when an author spends a page or two to thank every reviewer individually in a long, boring author's note. So I won't do it myself - sorry if that offends some people. I'd rather have more story than note. Thanks to all. Also, I apologize for the time this chapter took, but I just began senior year, and it's been quite hectic. I'll tell you now, updates will not be as frequent as some people would like, myself included.  
  
*~Chapter Three~*  
  
It sounded like a small explosion had occurred on the lawn of number 4 Privet drive, as several dozen Death Eaters, Voldemort included, apparated onto the Dursley's lawn. Several glanced around, as though unsure of whether of not they were in the right place and a small murmur rose through the ranks of the Death Eaters. Several looked to their comrades for confirmation. This was where Dumbledore had been protecting the great Harry Potter? This pathetic little muggle home?  
  
The Dark Lord turned around, nodded to his followers, and raised a long, bony finger to his lips to silence their voices. They immediately ceased speaking and moving. They all faced their master. Voldemort then approached the front door and, smirking, rang the door bell. He took several silent steps backward and waited.  
  
The assembled Death Eaters could hear a loud grumbling coming from the home, followed by what sounded like a giant bowling ball being slowly dropped down a flight of stairs. Just as several Death Eaters cast around some curious glares, the front door was flung open by a short, fat, furious looking man. He was wrapped in a hastily thrown on flannel house coat. He looked about to holler with rage at he who had the audacity to ring his doorbell at midnight, but choked on his own words when he saw dozens of wands pointed at him. He looked ready to pass out as Voldemort let out a cruel, high-pitched laugh.  
  
"Come here, muggle," the Dark Lord said silkily, motioning Vernon towards him. "I won't hurt you or your family if you do," he whispered menacingly, and a swish of his wand caused an invisible force to push the beefy man into the crowd of Death Eaters. He stumbled at the unexpected push, and fell to the ground at Voldemort's feet. The wizard sneered and, grabbing him by the collar of his pajamas, pulled the muggle to his feet. He then aimed his wand and Vernon. Though Vernon obviously had the physical advantage over this tall, bony man, he visibly flinched.  
  
"Now, muggle, I want you to do me a favor." Voldemort stepped so close to Vernon that he could see his sweat. He placed the tip of his wand on Vernon's forehead, causing the large man to whimper in fear. "I want you to scream."  
  
And with one whispered word from Voldemort, he did.  
  
***  
  
Severus Snape stood on the lawn of the Dursley home, surrounded by his fellow Death Eaters. He looked calm, with his wand pointed at the fat muggle that was Harry Potter's uncle. If anyone could have seen his eyes through his Death Eater mask, he would even appear to be enjoying the muggle's fear. His wand was steady, and he seemed ready to throw a curse at any moment.  
  
Inside he was panicking.  
  
He knew the Boy Who Lived would be safe, for he knew the boy had a portkey with him. In fact, the portkey had been his idea. He'd even helped in re- working the wards around Hogwarts to ensure the powers of the portkey would not be forced out by them. He'd also taken special care to ensure a special one-way floo fire from the headmaster's office to the Dursley home, in case of such an attack. After all, he had quickly realized that attack would be imminent. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort lost his patience and called for an attack.  
  
However, despite all the cautions in the world, he had not come up with a form of protection for the Dursley's. After all, no member of the Order, Dumbledore or otherwise, had thought of the possibility of Voldemort drawing them out one by one. And there was no way for Snape to protect them now, if he wanted to keep his role as spy safe. Severus had realized that there would be times in which he would have to endure atrocities for the sake of the Order. But, being faced with such a case, he wasn't sure how well he'd react.  
  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was too late - these muggles would die, no matter what he did.  
  
So he'd simply have to watch.  
  
***  
  
"Crucio."  
  
Many Death Eaters laughed cruelly as the beefy man before them fell once more to his knees, and began screaming like a small child. They watched with delight as he writhed in pain, knowing first-hand how much pain their master could inflict. Tears streamed down the grown man's face.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of Vernon Dursley screaming was matched by two similar sounds - his wife and son, standing terrified just inside the open doorway, screaming at the sight of their husband and father in agonizing pain at the hands of wizards. Petunia Dursley was pale as a sheet, her bony arm wrapped protectively around the bulging torso of her massive son. Dudley Dursley was looking panicked, and had both his hands clamped firmly on his rear end. He didn't realize that he was soon to be faced with more problems than a simple pig tail.  
  
Noticing the remaining Dursleys at the door, Voldemort cast a quick silencing charm on Vernon. This stopped the screaming of Petunia and Dudley, but they continued to stare as Vernon appeared to still be screaming and in an immense amount of pain. Voldemort turned to face them.  
  
"I realize this must be difficult for the two of you," he said in a would- be compassionate voice. "I will cease torturing this man, however, if you both will please take a step forward."  
  
Dudley looked up at his mother, who seemed equally confused at this odd request. Thinking quickly, and throwing several glances at her silently screaming husband, Petunia nodded to her son. Holding onto each other as thought their very lives depended on it, the two took a shaky step forward.  
  
The door immediately slammed shut behind them, causing Petunia to scream in surprise. Voldemort let out another laugh, and pointed his wand high above the house. "Morsemordre!" he shouted, and immediately a gigantic green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth burst from the end of his wand, and positioned itself over number 4. "Thank you for your courtesy," The Dark Lord said, stepping closer to the Dursleys. "It will make killing you all much easier."  
  
After several frantic screams, and several shouts of "Avada Kedavra!", the bodies of the three Dursleys slumped to the ground.  
  
In the small cupboard inside, Harry held his breath. The last thing he'd heard through the cupboard door was the cut-off screams of his aunt and cousin. What had happened? He leaned his head closer, and felt like vomiting when he heard a cold voice in the front entryway.  
  
"He's in the cupboard under the stairs," hissed Voldemort.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to defend the Dursleys as much as was humanly possible. The door of his cupboard was blown off, and he was pulled out of it by a Death Eater. He shook them off, and came face to face with Lord Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort smirked at Harry. "Ah, so good to see you, boy." Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort's heart. "What is this? You don't really think you can harm me with that little thing, do you?" Many of the assembled Death Eaters snickered. Harry stood his ground.  
  
"I will defend my family, Tom," he said bravely, and was pleased to see anger flash through his nemesis' eyes as he intoned Voldemort's given name.  
  
"I will not be known by my filthy muggle father's name," he whispered dangerously, pointing his wand at Harry's chest. The closest ring of Death Eaters did the same. "Besides, defending your muggle filth relatives would be pointless; they are no longer a part of the world of the living." Harry paled, and his wand faltered, causing Voldemort to grin evilly.  
  
"I believe it is time for you to pay for your disrespect towards me, Harry Potter. And make sure your mudblood mother knows she failed, won't you?"  
  
At the instant that a dozen voices shouted "Avada Kedavra!", Harry whispered something inaudible. The curses struck the boy in the chest, and his eyes went wide. There was a small explosion, and all anyone could see was a cloud of smoke. Several Death Eaters coughed and tried to wave the smoke away. As it cleared, everyone could see a large black crater on the floor, in the spot where Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had once stood.  
  
Voldemort let out a triumphant cry, which was echoed by many of his Death Eaters. In the next instant, the large group disapparated, leaving one of their number behind to stare numbly at the scorch mark on the floor.  
  
"Dear Lord," whispered Severus Snape. 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Wow, look at all my pretty reviewers! *beams* Thank you all sooooo much. Sorry this took so long, but lucky for you, I got sick. What else is a sick girl going to do? Oh, and this is probably full of grammatical errors, because I'm sick and so my brain isn't working properly. Just...cut me some slack this once.  
  
"Dear Lord," whispered Severus Snape.  
  
*~Chapter Four~*  
  
He stared down at the charred spot on the floor, pale with shock. Surely what he had seen was a hallucination...but he knew, deep down, it was true. This was really happening; he had failed in preventing it. The wizarding world was doomed...  
  
***  
  
It was past midnight. The three students skulked away from the Headmaster's office, throwing each other dirty looks. The full moon glistened through the windows as they slowly made their way through the halls...  
  
Sirius turned away from the other two and entered the boy's lavatory. After a few moments, the sound of screaming and breaking glass could be heard. James took this opportunity. He grabbed Severus by the shoulders and smashed him hard against the wall. Severus let out a gasp of pain.  
  
"You really are as stupid as I thought you were, you know that Snivellus?!" James hissed at him. The Slytherin boy sneered. James only pushed him harder. "Don't you give me that BS. You'd really be willing to get yourself killed, just to expose Remus? You're as dense as Sirius!!"  
  
Snape paled. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this certainly wasn't it. He remained silent.  
  
"What's the matter, SNAKE got your tongue? Well listen up, Snape, and listen good." James' face was now mere centimeters away from Severus'. Snape tried to shrink back, but he was jammed too far against the wall. There was no place to go.  
  
"You owe me. You owe me BIG. I don't care if you deny it; deep down, you know it too. And somehow, someday, I expect you to pay me back. Someway that really matters."  
  
James released Snape then. Severus was about to retort, when: "And next time, put the value of your life above the value of being a sneak."  
  
And James was gone.  
  
***  
  
By no means did Severus Snape like Harry Potter. Perhaps he admired his courage, but he'd never admit it to himself (or anyone else, for that matter). He believed that the boy was just as arrogant as his father. But that didn't mean he wished the boy harm. He never wanted him dead. He had worked hard during the boy's first year to protect him from Quirrel. As much as he hated to admit it, he did feel that he owed James Potter a debt for saving his life.  
  
He also knew, more so than some others, including some members of the Order, how important this boy was. He knew of the prophecy; knew it was either him or Voldemort.  
  
And when it came down to it, it had been Voldemort.  
  
Snape sighed. He pulled out a brilliant phoenix feather from his pocket, pressed his wand to it, and whispered something unintelligible. As the feather vanished to Dumbledore's office, only one thought ran through Snape's head:  
  
Lupin's going to kill me.  
  
***  
  
Albus Dumbledore was having a very late night. Much had happened since the Ministry of Magic had acknowledged the return of Voldemort, and he had found his hands fuller than normal for summertime. The death of Sirius Black had also complicated matters, and Dumbledore was writing up a letter informing Cornelius Fudge of the man's innocence, and eventual death. He just finished signing the letter when a large number of people started to tumble out of his office fireplace: first Molly and Arthur Weasley, followed by the twins, who landed on top of each other, and quickly became entangled in their efforts to untangle. Tonks and Ron fell out next, tripping over the flailing twins and landing on top of them. Lastly came Lupin and Ginny. Lupin caught the girl just before she fell, face first, into Ron's rear end.  
  
"Thanks for saving me, my big strong hero," she said, still snuggled into the older man's warmth. "You saved me from a fate worse than death."  
  
Snorting, Lupin bent forward to help Tonks up off the boys, who had successfully managed to disentangle themselves. Helping each other into a standing position, the boys glanced around.  
  
"Well, that was relatively simple," stated Fred.  
  
"Most definitely; good thing we saved ourselves from embarrassment," agreed George. The rest of the Weasley's just rolled their eyes.  
  
Molly and Arthur directed their attentions to the Headmaster. "Albus, we apologize for coming so late in the night, but..."  
  
"Oh, no, not a problem," said the old man, waving them off and smiling kindly. "I love having guests! Let me draw you up some chairs!" And he did just that; eight fluffy red chairs fell out of the air in front of his desk. They all sat down; the twins opted to share a chair, as did Lupin and Ginny (the girl was still half asleep).'  
  
"Would you like some tea?" asked the Headmaster. In the next instant, a small house elf was standing next to the Headmaster, levitating a tray of tea and biscuits above it's head.  
  
"Great, that'd be just wonderful," said Fred, reaching for a biscuit.  
  
"Yeah, I'm just famished," George said, also grabbing out. Their mother slapped their hands away and gave them a stern look. They rolled their eyes.  
  
"No, Albus, we do have important business," said Arthur worriedly. "You see, Ron received an owl from Hermione Granger..."  
  
And so the Weasleys proceeded to tell Dumbledore what had happened, and their concerns. He sat behind his desk with a cup of tea cradled in his hands, nodding as they spoke. When they had finished, he placed his tea on the desk in front of him.  
  
"I understand that you are concerned about Harry," said Dumbledore, shushing Arthur before he could interrupt, "And I guarantee you that I will have someone look into this, if not look into it myself. But you must understand that if something were grievously wrong with Harry, I would be one of the first to know it. I have several ways of knowing if Harry is in immediate or serious danger, and a system set up if Harry has been attacked or injured in any way..."  
  
The old man trailed off as a bright light appeared in front of his face, and a phoenix feather appeared out of thin air. It fluttered gently to the desktop, causing the Headmaster to pale several shades, and to look very grave indeed.  
  
"What, Albus, what is it?" asked Lupin quickly.  
  
"That, Remus," Dumbledore said slowly, "Is the system I have set up if Harry has been attacked or injured in any way...by Voldemort."  
  
Everyone in the room gasped. Ginny whimpered. Lupin looked as though he might faint, and started to speak in a fast, panicky voice. "What, what do you mean? Do you mean he...who? Who do you have who can - Snape? If it's him, then something-  
  
"Please Remus, you must try to calm down," said Dumbledore quietly.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"The Dursleys." Dumbledore stated. "Someone must-"  
  
"I will," Remus said quickly. He gently pushed Ginny off his lap, rose, and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the jar on the fireplace. He checked to make sure he had his wand with him, and tossed it into the flames, which turned green. "Number four Privet drive!" he shouted as he jumped into the flames, and was whirled out of the Headmaster's office.  
  
***  
  
A/N: Alas, a cliff hanger. Sorry, but I PROMISE that chapter five will be prompt - Noah's coming on the weekend, so I'll make him force me to do more. I know this wasn't that high on content. But I'm ill, and this chapter had to be done ANYWAY, so...this is what you get. Review, oh wonderful readers! 


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: I told you this'd be fast!  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Remus Lupin held his elbows tucked close to his body as he spun around and around, waiting to land in the Dursley's fireplace. All the while, panicked thoughts kept running through his mind.  
  
'Merlin, what if something has happened to Harry? What if he's hurt? What if Voldemort has taken him? What would Padfoot say? What would PRONGS say???'  
  
At last, Lupin felt himself slowing down, and he quickly stopped himself by putting his hands on the inside of the fireplace. It was a good thing, too, for if he hadn't, he would have run into a wall.  
  
A wall?  
  
Cursing, Lupin vaguely remembered Arthur Weasley saying something about the Dursleys having a blocked off fireplace with a plug. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and aimed a curse at the wall. It blew apart, and Lupin rushed through the hole, wand drawn.  
  
Lupin was met by a masked Death Eater, wand held ready to attack. But before Lupin could fire a curse at the man, he held up his hand and shouted "Stop!" Lupin didn't lower his wand, but waited as the man removed his mask.  
  
Severus Snape.  
  
Lupin sighed in relief. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank the Lord it's you, Snape." His smile faltered, however, when he saw the look on the Potions Master's face. He was pale as death, and seemed to be in shock. "Severus, are you alright?" he asked, taking a step towards the other man. Snape backed up several steps, into the hallway.  
  
"I tried. I didn't know...What was I to do? I didn't realize he'd...as stupid as his father - why didn't he use it? He had more than enough time..." Snape said disjointedly. He was staring at something on the floor beside him; Remus looked down and saw a giant scorched crater on the floor. He paled.  
  
"Severus, what on earth is that?" whispered Lupin. Snape looked up at him, a pleading look in his eyes.  
  
"I tried, Lupin, there was nothing I could do-"  
  
Remus took several rushed steps towards Snape, and, panicking, asked, "What is it?"  
  
Snape took a deep breath. He looked at the man he had hated since his childhood with sympathetic eyes. Lupin's blood ran cold. Snape whispered the one word that, after sixteen years of pain, brought Remus' world crashing down around him.  
  
"Potter."  
  
Snape watched as the werewolf became unhinged. He was screaming as though someone was ripping his heart out. He proceeded to destroy everything in the sitting room; Severus made no attempt to stop him. He realized how much pain this man had gone though, and thought he'd never liked him, he did feel compassion. He watched Lupin rip the sofa apart. He threw furniture at the windows. He smashed all photographs off the walls with his bare hands. Blood trickled from his hands, where glass had embedded itself into his skin from smashing picture frames.  
  
As Lupin smashed the last porcelain figure, he seemed to become devoid of emotion. He walked past Severus into the hallway, not seeming to notice the Death Eater. He sat down in front of the charred spot, assumed the fetal position, and started to howl. Not the sad howl of a human, but the broken howl of a beast that had been wounded too many times. Tears poured down his face, and he hid in his knees, rocking back and forth. After a few minutes, he'd stopped rocking and howling, and sat crying, staring blankly ahead of him.  
  
His reverie was broken by a noise coming from the cupboard next to him. He nudged the door open and was met with a pair of big brown eyes. Hedwig the owl let out a mournful hoot. Lupin removed her cage from the cupboard and opened the door of it. The owl flew out of the cage, and landed in the center of the scorch mark. Lupin's heart ached as he watched the faithful pet bend forward and release a single tear onto the ground, letting out another miserable hoot. She then hopped slowly back towards the cage, flew in, and pulled the door shut with her beak. As though letting out a sigh, she leaned her head against the side of the cage and stared at the spot on the ground.  
  
Lupin set the cage on the ground, and turned to look into the cupboard. Everything Harry owned was in there; his trunk and Firebolt were beneath the pitiful mattress, and some quills and parchment were spread out on the shelves above the head of the bed.  
  
"They found him in there," whispered Snape, now standing next to Lupin. He pointed at the cupboard. Anger flared within Lupin as he realized why Ron hadn't received any letters from Harry; why all his gifts had been sent back; why Hermione hadn't been able to talk to him on the telephone. The Dursleys had, once again, locked the boy into the cupboard under the stairs.  
  
Lupin let out a primal growl and turned to Snape. "Where?" he asked furiously. "Where are those filthy muggles?"  
  
Snape lowered his gaze and pointed to the front door. "They're outside. Voldemort killed them." The anger within Lupin was quickly extinguished, and replaced with pity. Nobody, not even those pathetic muggles, deserved to die at the hands of Voldemort.  
  
"That's how they got in, then," Lupin said quietly, turning to face Snape. The Death Eater nodded.  
  
"The Dark Mark is hovering over the house; Ministry authorities will be here any moment. We must gather up the boy's things and apparate back."  
  
Lupin nodded sullenly, and started to gather up Harry's things with his wand. Once he was certain everything but the Firebolt and Hedwig's cage was loaded into the trunk, he and Snape disapparated.  
  
As anyone who has read "Hogwarts: A History" would know, it is impossible to apparate or disapparate on the grounds of Hogwarts. Therefore, Snape and Lupin apparated in Hogsmeade, about a mile away from the gates of Hogwarts. The walk back to the castle was long and silent. Lupin was grateful for the silence, though; it wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable silence, like he normally experienced around the Potions Master. No, it was more an understanding, respectful silence. As they walked, a scene from nearly sixteen years ago kept running through Remus' head. A scene that desperately made him wish he could vanish into thin air.  
  
"We've come to a decision," said James proudly, leading his wife and their barely one-week-old son into their sitting room. Lupin, Sirius, and Peter Pettigrew were gathered around, smiling at the sight of the child. It was really scary how much he looked like James...  
  
"You're finally going to start acting your age?" asked Sirius hopefully. Lupin stepped on his foot.  
  
"Ouch! I was only kidding, Moony. I assume you mean you've come to a decision on who is to be godfather?" Lily nodded.  
  
"It took hours of careful planning," she said, eyeing the three men before her. "We had to think of who would be the most suitable, and would be able to take the best care of Harry."  
  
"And after all that," James stated, sitting next to his wife, "We picked the most incompetent of the three of you."  
  
Sirius whooped for joy, jumped up, and pulled James into a bone crushing bear hug. He quickly released him, however, after he heard several pops and cracks. "Wow, James, I never thought...I mean, wow! I thought you'd choose Moony!"  
  
"Yeah, so did I," Lupin pouted. James laughed and sat between Peter and Remus.  
  
"Now, now, it's not like Harry could have three godfathers, is it? Besides, Lily and I would like to consider you unofficial godfathers to Harry. We know you'll both try just as hard as Padfoot ever would, should anything happen to us." He leaned in closer to the two, hoping Sirius couldn't hear him. "And, if anything does happen to us, keep a VERY close eye on Padfoot, ok?"  
  
Remus and Peter laughed and nodded. "We'll protect him with our lives," Peter said, smiling warmly at baby Harry.  
  
"Yeah, you think Sirius would be able to keep us away from him? Not bloody likely!" Lupin said firmly, sitting next to Lily and taking the small boy in his arms. Harry stared up at him with big green eyes, and smiled.  
  
And in the end, his efforts had been futile. At least Sirius had been able to protect Harry; he really did protect the boy with his life.  
  
'And I left him to die with those muggles,' Remus thought miserably. He let out a mournful cry and let the tears flow once more. Snape turned to him and gave him another sympathetic look.  
  
"I am truly sorry," he whispered, cautiously placing his arm on the other man's shoulder. Lupin gave Snape a miserable smile.  
  
"I know." 


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: *cringes* Please don't hate me! School has just been one thing after another; senior year and all. I know you're probably upset, just please DON'T FLAME ME!  
  
And just so you know, I realize this story doesn't look like it applies much to the summary, but it should all become clear within the next couple of chapters, ok?  
  
*~Chapter Six~*  
  
The door to the Headmaster's office slowly creaked open, revealing Snape and Lupin. The Weasleys and Tonks all rushed from their seats towards the two men as soon as they saw them enter. Dumbledore, however, remained sitting quietly behind his desk. The twinkle in his eyes was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Where is Harry?"  
  
"What did you find?"  
  
"How -"  
  
All the questions being bombarded at the two ceased as Snape less-than- gently shoved the crowd out of the way, leading Lupin to a chair directly in front of Dumbledore's desk. Lupin collapsed into one of the large armchairs, staring blankly ahead of him. Snape grabbed a cup of tea from the tray the headmaster had put out, and offered it quietly to Lupin. The lycanthrope didn't look up as he accepted the cup, and he didn't make any indication that he was going to drink it. His eyes seemed withdrawn into his head, and were bloodshot from crying. His face was pale and drawn. Curiously, the group that had risen slowly returned to their seats.  
  
No words were said for many minutes. Lupin continued to stare into space, not seeming to realize that Dumbledore was seated in the space he was staring at. Snape sighed and massaged his temples, seeming more exhausted than ever. Dumbledore looked between the two, trying to asses the situation, but respecting their wishes for silence. Ron kept looking back and forth from the three older men, as though he were watching a non- existent tennis game. His face was tight with worry. Ginny kept fidgeting with her hair. The twins were uncharacteristically silent. Molly and Arthur sat quietly, not sure of what to say. Tonks looked as though she were ready to burst, and after Ron's head moved back to Dumbledore for the fifth time, she couldn't contain it anymore.  
  
"Where is Harry?!" she practically shouted, then turned red as she realized how loudly she'd spoken. She mumbled an apology, staring at her feet.  
  
"Sirius," whispered Lupin, seemingly become aware of his surroundings. Tonks looked at him, confused. Dumbledore leaned forward and forced Remus to meet his gaze.  
  
"What did you say, Remus?" he asked softly. Remus hesitated for a moment, trying to calm himself. When he spoke, it sounded as though he were choking.  
  
"He's with Sirius."  
  
Dumbledore looked grave, and closed his eyes. He hid his face in his hands.  
  
Ron, looking more confused than ever, finally stood up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? WHO is with Sirius?" He looked furiously at Lupin. "WELL?"  
  
Lupin turned to face Ron, and the boy was suddenly struck with how old and miserable his ex-professor looked. He visibly cringed from the despair that radiated from the man.  
  
"Harry," Lupin whispered. "Harry is with Sirius."  
  
Ron continued to look confused. "What are you on about? That's impossible! Sirius is -"  
  
"Well spotted, Weasley," Snape sneered from his chair, glaring daggers at the boy. "I'm certain Lupin was completely oblivious of the fact that his closest friend is deceased! Please, continue to demonstrate your insensitivity. Lupin certainly looks like he's up for it, don't you think?!" By this time, Snape was shouting. Ron cowered back into his chair. Snape sighed again, and continued to massage his temples.  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't understand," squeaked Ginny, tears streaming down her face in slow realization. "Are you saying that Harry is...well, that he's..."  
  
"Dead," Lupin said, still in shock. "Harry Potter is dead."  
  
Ginny let out a strangled sob, burying her face in her knees. Molly instantly burst into tears, hugging her husband close. Arthur seemed too shocked for words. The twins went over and hugged a weeping Tonks, tears streaming down their own faces. Ron looked frantic.  
  
"What?" He let out a bitter laugh. "You've got to be kidding me. That's impossible. Harry is perfectly safe at the Dursleys." He glanced at Lupin, who gave the boy a pitying look. At this, Ron became even more panicked. "You don't get it! That's not possible. Dumbledore's got him protected - tell them, Headmaster, tell them that -"  
  
"I apologize, Ronald," Dumbledore said, lifting his eyes from his hands and giving Ron an apologetic look. "I truly believed Harry would be safe at his relative's house. I truly did."  
  
Ron was having a full blown panic attack. "YOU'RE LYING! HARRY ISN'T DEAD; HE'S THE BOY WHO 'LIVED', THERE IS NO WAY IN HEAVEN OR HELL THAT HE'S -"  
  
"Stupefy," muttered Snape, and Ron fell to the ground, unconscious. Snape gently lifted the boy's form into the chair he'd been occupying. "I apologize, Arthur, but if he were to continue like that..."  
  
"Of course, Severus," whispered Arthur, rubbing circles around his distraught wife's back.  
  
"If you'd like, I could take him to the hospital wing for you..." Snape trailed off. He was unaccustomed to being comforting, and he didn't feel he was doing a very good job now.  
  
"S'alright, Professor," said George, walking towards his youngest brother.  
  
"We'll take care of it," Fred said, nodding. Pulling out their wants, the two whispered, "Mobilicorpus," and floated their brother out the office door. Tonks and Ginny quietly followed after the boys, closing the door behind them.  
  
Molly pulled a handkerchief out of one of her pockets, and loudly blew her nose. Sniffling, she looked up at the headmaster.  
  
"I can't believe it."  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I anticipated something like this, though I didn't think it would happen so soon. I did, however, take safety measures; giving Snape a way to contact me in case of emergency...hooking up the one- way floo from my office...and the ring..." The old man sighed. "Why didn't he use the ring?"  
  
Arthur gave Dumbledore a curious look. "What do you mean, the ring, Albus?"  
  
"The one safety precaution I thought was foolproof, Arthur," said the headmaster, looking older than ever. "I gave Harry a portkey in the shape of a ring. I told him that, were the Death Eaters ever to attack him at the Dursleys, he was to use it. It would take him straight to my office."  
  
"He wanted to protect the muggles," said Snape quietly. Everyone turned to him. He met all their gazes. "He wanted to protect the only family he had left; it didn't matter to him that they were horrible, hateful, ignorant muggles. He still wanted to protect them from that which they weren't capable of understanding."  
  
At this, Molly was overcome by a fresh wave of tears, and buried her head in her husband's chest. Things like, "the poor dear," and, "such a brave boy," could be faintly heard.  
  
Albus walked over to one of his cupboards, and pulled out what looked like a small earthquake detector. The small hand that would normally be going back and forth, however, was still. Dumbledore turned off the device, and pulled out the long piece of parchment that seemed to have been recording something. As he unraveled it, a spot was visible where the hand had been going at a steady pace back and forth, seemed to have a sudden burst where the lines went nearly to the edge of the page, then the line became flat. Dumbledore walked over and handed the parchment to his Potions Master.  
  
"It appears that there was a peak of energy before the portkey was destroyed," he said quietly. Snape nodded at this.  
  
"Most likely a result from the Killing Curse," Snape whispered. Dumbledore nodded morosely.  
  
"Arthur," he said, seating himself once more behind his desk, "I believe it would be advisable for your family to remain at the castle for a while, for your own safety." Mr. Weasley nodded at the old man. "Also, I believe it would be prudent to extend an invitation to Miss Granger as well; she's is, most likely, also in danger."  
  
"I will attend to it," Snape said suddenly, standing. "It would be wise for me to fetch the girl immediately, I would think."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Go to Hogsmeade and apparate to her home, Severus." He handed the potions master a small glass ball. "This portkey will return the two of you directly the front gates." Snape nodded at this, turned and left the office in a swish of Death Eater robes.  
  
"As for you three, I will set you all up accommodations. I believe the children will wish to stay in Gryffindor Tower tonight."  
  
The Weasleys nodded, but Lupin only acknowledged he'd heard anything with a small grunt. He still seemed to be too deep in shock to register much of what was going on.  
  
"Perhaps I will also obtain a dreamless sleep draught for you, Remus," he said quietly, standing and directing the other man out the office door. 


	7. Chapter Seven

A/N: Wow, long time no see. I've started to recover from my life. MANY thanks to all my wonderful reviewers – you must hate me! I hate me! Special thanks to my 50th reviewer. Smurf off! Question: Does anyone know how to make stars show up? They won't anymore! :(  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Hermione Granger, clad in her dressing gown, was pacing in her room. It was well into the night, and she should have been asleep long ago. However, the return of her best friend's birthday gifts had caused her too much worry to return to the land of the unconscious. After sending off an owl to Ron, she'd waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
It had been several hours since she'd sent Pig back, and she was starting to think that maybe she had over-analyzed the situation. Or perhaps Dumbledore had taken care of it? She sat on the edge of her bed, frustrated. She would have received some word, had that been the case. Wouldn't she?  
  
She'd considered waking her parents, but knew she only wanted their moral support, and had decided to let the two dentists sleep. So she sat alone in her bedroom, nearly sick with worry over her best friend. It was more than she could handle, and she was close to taking some of the floo powder given to her by the Weasleys and floo'ing to Grimmauld Place.  
  
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she heard a sharp knock on her bedroom door. Rising quickly, she pulled the door open. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of her Potions professor, dressed in what appeared to be Death Eater attire, on the other side of the door. He looked worn out, and none-too-pleased to be there. He swiftly walked in and silently closed the door behind him. He reluctantly turned to face her. He opened his mouth, but seemed at a loss for words, and just as quickly closed it. He furrowed his brow, and looked thoughtful.  
  
Hermione felt like she was about to be ill. She knew there was only one reason why this man would be in her room at this time of night, dressed the way he was. She slowly dropped onto her bed.  
  
"Harry," she whispered. When he said nothing in reply, she cocked her head to look at him. He again looked reluctant to meet her eye. He gave her a curt nod, quickly turning away from her gaze. She took in a sharp breath.  
  
"Is he..." she was confused, and didn't know how to express herself. "That is to say...Did You-Know-Who-? Is he captured? Is he hurt?" Her eyes started to tear up, and her breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps.  
  
Finally working up the courage, Snape knelt in front of the sitting girl and looked her straight in the eye. "I have no easy way to tell you this, Miss Gra-...Hermione...and I would be doing you no favors by attempting to beat around the bush." She nodded for him to continue, unable to speak. "Harry is dead," he said softly.  
  
Hermione let out a loud sob, tears pouring down her face. She collapsed forward, into the arms of her startled Potions professor. He gasped and looked down at the curly mane of brown hair. He felt her tears soak through the thin fabric of his Death Eater robes. Totally in shock, and completely at a loss as to what to do, he cautiously put her arms around her. She hung onto him for dear life.  
  
  
Minerva McGonnagal was in shock. The Headmaster had just roused her from her quarters and informed her that Harry Potter was dead. He had left her in the hospital wing to keep an eye on the Weasley children. The twins and Ginny were sitting dejectedly around a bed the housed the youngest Weasley boy. Nymphadora Tonks was pacing around. Minerva was at a loss. She was never one to show her emotions to the world. How could she help console these children, who had lost one of their closest friends?  
  
All the while she couldn't help thinking of Lily and James, and how upset she'd been when they were murdered. She had so much wanted to keep Harry away from his wretched Muggle relatives, but Albus had claimed it would all be for the best. And look what had happened! She couldn't help but feel guilt, thinking that perhaps she could have done more. But as it was, she was still suffering from her injuries from the previous school year.  
  
She stood stoically by the doors of the infirmary, leaning gently on her cane. She watched as Ronald Weasley slowly awakened, and grieved with his brothers, sister, and friend. She wasn't sure what to do, so she remained silently in the corner, preparing to escort the small group to Gryffindor Tower for the evening.  
  
At that moment, Severus Snape entered the Hospital Wing. The group by the bed all looked up in shock when they realized that he carried in his arms a very distraught looking Hermione Granger, who had her head resting on his shoulder. He walked to the nearest bed and gently placed the young woman down on it, his face void of emotion. Ron jumped up and literally ran towards his best friend.  
  
He stopped next to her bed, where Hermione had yet to extricate herself from Snape's arms. "Hermione," was all he managed to get out, and it sounded more like a sob than a name. Slowly, Hermione turned her tear- streaked face towards him. Snape waited for her to pull away, not really attempting to himself. Finally she pulled back, stood up next to Ron, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He did the same, and the two friends collapsed to the floor, weeping over the loss of their closest friend.  
  
  
Later that evening, the group of students had been left to their own devices in the Gryffindor common room. Tonks had returned to Grimmauld Place, and their parents were being kept in a guest suite near the teacher's quarters. Fred and George were on either end of the couch; Ginny sprawled out between the two of them, her head resting in George's lap. Ron and Hermione were intertwined in one of the large velvet armchairs in front of the fire. A tray of food was set out before them, placed their by the Hogwart's house elves, but none of them had any appetite at all. They stared blankly at the flames, tears still coursing down Hermione's face. She snuggled into Ron.  
  
"I can't believe it," she whispered, the first thing to have been said by any of them since her and Ron's breakdown in the Hospital wing. Ron replied by nodding his head stiffly, resting his chin on top of her hair.  
  
"Wasn't he supposed to be safe?" Ginny squeaked, lifting her head out of her brother's lap. Everyone turned their head towards her. George patted her hair, making her lie down again. She sighed miserably. "Sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.  
  
Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione. She let out a small whimper. "That's what I thought too," she muttered as she leaned back and slowly drifted off to sleep. She dreamt of watching Harry and Ron play quidditch, and woke up feeling rather empty.  
  
  
Harry Potter laid sprawled on his back. He was aware of two things – one, he was in an immense amount of pain, and two, he was freezing. Being aware of these things, however, he knew he wasn't dead. He tried to ponder how it could be that he had again survived the killing curse – or several – but the thought caused him more pain, so he decided against thinking all together.  
  
Not yet willing to open his eyes and acknowledge his surroundings, he slowly attempted to turn himself onto his stomach. White hot pain coursed through his entire body, and he let out a groan. The sound reverberated through his head, causing him even more pain. He squeezed his eyes tightly and held his breath. The pain slowly lessened. He moved his right hand around cautiously, trying to asses his surroundings. No wonder he was so cold – he was lying on ice! He could feel a mound of snow next to him, and if he concentrated very hard, he could feel soft snowflakes land on his cold cheeks and nose.  
  
'Maybe I am dead,' he thought quietly to himself. If hell consisted of fiery pits, perhaps heaven was a "Winter Wonderland", so to speak? Would see Sirius? James and Lily? 'But would I be in so much pain if I was dead??'  
  
His insides turned to ice when he heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow. He squeezed his eyes tight again when his vision was flooded by light, despite his eyes being closed. He held his breath and listened intently. The noise had stopped right next to him. Curious, yet cautious, he slowly opened his eyes.  
  
He was met by the face of an angel.


	8. Chapter Eight: Interlude

A/N: Look, two updates in two days. Just don't expect it that often ;)  
  
Chapter Eight - Interlude  
  
**The Boy-Who-Lived is Dead  
_At You-Know-Who's Hand!_  
**  
_Earlier this morning, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge released the following statement to the Associated Wizards Press:  
"It is with deepest regrets that I inform the wizarding community of the death of it's greatest hero, one Harry Potter."_

_Details released later in the day revealed that the fifteen-year-old and his family were attacked at the Dursley residence in Surrey by none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a large group of Death Eaters._

_Harry has been living with his Muggle relatives since his parents death, and started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a mere five years ago. Though being under a great amount of scrutiny from the wizarding community after claiming he witnessed the return of You-Know-Who after winning the Triwizard Touranament a year ago, where seventh-year Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory was killed, he was again brought back into the limelight after You-Know-Who's return was confirmed in June by the Minister for Magic himself._

_Reportedly, You-Know-Who lured Potter's relatives out of their home, and systematically murdered them with the killing curse. He then put the Dark Mark over the house, entered, and killed young Potter. As of yet, it is unknown how these details were obtained._

_Harry Potter was scheduled to attend his sixth year at Hogwarts this coming September. He died on his sixteenth birthday. He is survived by no family, though his next of kin is listed as known werewolf Remus Lupin, as well as the Weasley family. Albus Dumbledore has scheduled two memorials - a public one at the Ministry, and a private one at Hogwarts for close friends. Both are yet to be announced._

Albus Dumbledore put down the newspaper with a sigh. He was seated at his office desk, and slowly looked around the room. Several objects were missing that had been there in past years; destroyed at the hand of a distraught fifteen year old. Albus looked back on his discussion with Harry at the end of the last school year with regret. Though he had clarified his reasons for his actions, he still felt he owed the boy a more sincere and heartfelt response. He had hoped he would be given the opportunity when he brought Harry to the Order Headquarters later that summer, but would now never have the chance. He cursed himself for his own short-sightedness. He had believed there would be a later time to speak with the boy. And he would never have that chance. His only consolation was in the thought that now Harry was with his mother, father, and god-father.

Of course, it was not just the loss of Harry Potter, his student and friend, that he had to deal with. The wizarding world was now officially doomed. The only way Albus could protect those close to him would be to hide them - potentially forever. No one could defeat the Dark Lord now.

On top of all that, Albus had to worry about the mental state of Harry's friends, particularly Remus Lupin. The werewolf had not left his room since the night of Harry's death, and had refused any food. According to the house elf Dobby, who Dumbledore had spying on the ex-professor, Remus had barely moved from the chair Albus had left him in that night. He sat, hour after hour, slowly flipping the pages through a photo album that had been found among Harry's possessions.

Dumbledore worried for Lupin's sanity.


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: [wipes away tears] Aww, you guys are the best! I've gotta have the best damn reviewers on ! And the best writers - I was reading over some of my more vocal reviewers work, and it's marvelous! Keep up the good work you guys.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Harry Potter had officially been dead for three days. His friends were in mourning, as was the entire wizarding community.  
  
It would have been quite a shock to them all, then, had they seen him slowly awake.  
  
Harry moaned, overcome by a feeling of déjà vu. He cautiously lifted his head and glanced around. He was lying on a four poster bed in a small cottage bedroom; the only things in the room were the bed on which he lay, a dim lamp standing in the corner, and a small bedside table with his wand atop it.  
  
Harry felt awful. His head felt as though it had been split open, and all his muscles ached. His mouth was drier than the Sahara, and he felt like he hadn't eaten in days. The last thing he could remember was a dream containing the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He desperately tried to remember more details, but the more he concentrated, the less he could recall.  
  
He sat up in bed just as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. His body tensed, much to the protest of his sore muscles, and he quickly grabbed his wand. He held it in front of him as the door opened to reveal the young woman from his dream. ...Or had it been a dream?  
  
She was slim, and only a few inches taller than Harry. Her hair, though seemingly white, turned iridescently multicolored in the light, and flowed like silk. Her eyes were a sparkling gold, amplified by her fair complexion. The twinkle in them reminded Harry vaguely of Professor Dumbledore. She wore a simple strapless white gown that rode down to the floor. Her physical presence was nothing compared to her spiritual one, however. She smiled at Harry, making him feel as though his heart was melting. He'd felt instantly calmer, warmer, and safer when she'd walked into the room.  
  
As she approached the bed, her delicate brow furrowed at the sight of his extended wand. His hand was shaking with the effort of holding it up, and she quickly took it out of his hand, placing back on the bedside table. He didn't object – quite the contrary. He smiled a shy smile as she came closer to him, feeling waves of contentment course off her.  
  
"There's no need for that, Harry," she said, her voice as melodic as a harp. "I'm going to help you, I promise." She gently ran placed her hand on his forehead, directly over his scar. All the pain in his head ceased, and felt as though she'd poured water over him. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh.  
  
"Thank you," he managed to croak out. He opened his eyes to find her handing him a glass of water.  
  
"Drink this," she said, holding the cup to his lips. "It will quench your thirst, soothe your muscles, and make you stronger." She gently tipped the cup upwards, and he swallowed the water gratefully. It tingled down his throat, and he found that it did improve his physical condition.  
  
She put the cup down on the side table once he'd finished. "I bet you're feeling better now," she said softly. He just nodded. His stomach let out an almighty growl, and he blushed. She just smiled at him. "You should join me downstairs, Harry. We need to get some food into you."  
  
She helped him rise from the bed, though it was not as difficult as he suspected it would have been only five minutes prior. She led him out the door, down a small wooden staircase, into a small sitting room. A large window was on the far side of the room, curtains drawn. There was a large red couch in the middle of the room, seated in front of a low glass table. The table had an assortment of different soups, fruits, cheese, breads, and pastries on it. In the center was a clear pitcher of water.

They sat together on the couch, and Harry looked cautiously at her. She nodded, that same mystical smile on her face, and Harry immediately began pilling food onto his plate.  
  
"So..." he said cautiously between bites. She said nothing. "What are..." Harry stopped, blushing. Surely this woman would take offense if he were to ask her _what_ she was, rather than who. He coughed, rephrasing. "Who are you?"

She let out a gentle laugh, which reminded Harry of the sound of a brook. "Don't worry about offending me, Harry. I understand your curiosity. Who am I? I am known as Liviana. _What _am I?" She smirked as he blushed again and refused to make eye contact. "I am an angel."

Harry nearly choked. Coughing, he took a sip of water, trying to wash down his food. Still slightly sputtering, he stared at her in disbelief. "A _real_ angel?" he breathed. She nodded gently, and stood up in front of him. Harry nearly fell off the couch as he watched her extend two magnificent silver wings. She sat back down.

"You know, Harry, they've been watching you," she said, motioning upwards with her head. Harry looked up, then back at her curiously.

"Er-they?"

"Yes," she said. "They. The almighty one or ones. Those beings that rule this universe. The powers that be."

Harry sat a moment, contemplating this. "But why on earth would they be watching me?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Why not?" Liviana mused. "They see all. But as of late, they've taken a particular interest in you. That is why I am here."

"Where exactly is here?"

She motioned with her hand towards the window. "Why don't you go look?"

Rising, and not quite sure what to expect, he slowly made his way towards the window. He pulled the curtain back to reveal an icy tundra. The wind whipped at the window, which was partially covered in snow and ice.

"We're in the arctic, Harry," Liviana said, coming up behind him. "Your portkey malfunctioned as a result of the killing curse. They sent me here to care for you, and to offer you a gift."

Harry turned at this. "Why?" he asked, bemused. "What sort of gift?"

She led him back towards the couch so he could keep eating. They sat. "Harry, they have not been blind to the struggle, pain, and heartache you have lived with for the past fifteen years. They feel your pain as you feel it, and they are also aware of the destiny that awaits you. They asked me to offer you a choice."

He nodded, not really knowing what to say. Liviana continued.

"They are offering you one of three things. From the day you leave this place, you will be given one week to contemplate this decision. When that time has expired, I will return and ask your answer. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded again. He took a deep breath. "What are these three things I get to choose from?" he asked cautiously. Liviana smiled at him.

"Lily Potter, James Potter, or Sirius Black."


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: I'd like to thank my readers/reviewers for all their support - at high school graduation, I received the Waukelhegan Writer's Group Flin Merit Award for Creative Writing. WOO!  
  
Chapter Ten

All the potions that Liviana had given Harry to regain his strength had been temporary solutions, and he spent the better part of a month bringing his body back to where it had been prior to the attack. He slept long hours, ate frequently, and by the time he felt fit to return to Hogwarts, was in better health than ever before.

He'd had nothing to pack, save for his wand, and offered a swift goodbye to the woman he'd come to consider his guardian angel. With a wave of her hand, Liviana sent Harry to the outskirts of Hogsmeade village, near the Shrieking Shack.

_I bet everyone's worried,_ Harry thought to himself as he pulled the deep red cloak that Liviana had given him around his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head so as not to attract unwanted attention. _I've been gone for an entire month..._

However, as Harry began the short trek to Hogwarts, he was ignorant to what awaited him there. He was blissfully unaware that all his friends believed him to be dead.

* * *

It had been a month since Harry's death, and nearly as long since the public funeral service (which had seen nearly half a million wizards and witches gathered in Godric's Hollow, much to the suspicion of local muggles, and very much to the chagrin of Ministry Muggle Control officials). However, many of Harry's friends – both students and Order Members – had held onto the faintest glimmer of hope that the Boy Who Lived might still be alive, and the closed memorial service had been delayed time and again. Sadly, all hope of somehow finding Harry Potter, dead or alive, had slowly vanished, and the time had come for those closest to him to have some semblance of closure after what had been an agonizing month of denial and false hopes.

The tables and benches had been removed from the Great Hall in Hogwarts. In their place stood two rows of wooden church pews, separated by a wide aisle up the center. A short podium stood facing the pews at the far end of the hall. The seats were filled to capacity with students, teachers, Aurors, and friends of the "late" Harry Potter. In the two front rows sat those closest to the Boy Who Lived – Hermione, Ron and the entire Weasley family (short of Percy), Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, and many members of the Order of the Phoenix. At the very end of the front aisle sat Dobby the house elf, who continuously burst into tears, and buried his face in a bright red handkerchief covered in golden snitches. Albus Dumbledore stood behind the podium, making eye contact with everyone in turn. His eyes stopped on a dark figure standing in the shadows by the entrance.

Severus Snape met the Headmaster's gaze unfalteringly with a stone cold glare. He hadn't wanted anyone to know he was there, though he wasn't at all surprised that Dumbledore had spotted him tucked away in the shadows. Guilt over Potter's death had driven him there, and it wasn't exactly a fact he wanted to make public for the entire wizarding world. It was bad enough that the old man had found out – despite his saddened expression, Snape could hardly fail to miss the twinkle in the Headmaster's eye as his gaze fell upon the Potion's Master.

Dumbledore's gaze went blank for a moment as he slipped into a deep state of contemplation. However, the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and he once again focused on those gathered before him. He drew in a long, calming breath, and began to address the grieving.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and mourn the death of the late Harry James Potter..."

* * *

The sun had set not moments ago, and Harry could see Hogwarts castle looming before him. He increased his pace when he saw the faint outline of the gates not far ahead. He pushed his way through the heavy metal gates and approached the castle. Many lights could be seen flickering in windows throughout the castle, Harry noticed as he approached the large doors. He laboriously pulled one opened, and stumbled into the fully-lit Entrance Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were closed, but Harry could see a light under the door. He could also hear someone speaking through the door, though he could not make out what was being said. He cautiously approached the door and slowly pushed it open, eliciting a giant creak from the ancient doors. He blushed furiously as he saw none other than Professor Snape turn towards him from just in front of the doors, giving him a paralyzing glare. Snape took two sharp steps towards him, grabbing hold of the partially opened door.

"No one - and I mean _no one_ - may enter the memorial service without an invitation from Professor Dumbledore," Snape hissed angrily at the cloaked figure before him.

Still oblivious to what exactly was going on before him, Harry had the sense to look properly abashed, paling considerably, and staring down at his feet.

"I'm really sorry, Professor," he managed to breathe out. "I didn't mean to disrupt...who died, sir?"

When Snape didn't respond for several long seconds, Harry slowly raised his head to make eye contact with him. The Potions Master's face had turned the same grey color as the floor, and he was staring, wild-eyed, at Harry.

"Sir? ...Are you alright?" Harry asked worriedly, not accustomed to such reactions of shock and fear on the Potions Master's face. He pulled his hood off his head and took a cautious step towards Snape. Snape jerked back involuntarily, confusing Harry even more.

"You, Potter..." Snape said, barely more than a whisper. This only managed to confuse Harry further. He glanced around the Great Hall to see nearly all his friend's seated, looking about as miserable as anyone could look, while Dumbledore stood at the front addressing them all. Harry listened, catching only a fragment of what the old man was saying amidst all the frantic thoughts rushing through his own head.

"...clear to me that Harry had an incredibly prosperous life ahead of him, and he was taken long before his time ever should have..."

Harry was in total shock. _OHMYGOD. They think...that I'm..._dead_?!_ He gasped and took several jerky steps forward, nudging Snape out of his way. He didn't know what to do. He saw Lupin, staring blankly ahead of him, as though there was nothing there. He saw Ron, lips quivering, trying to stay strong, with his arm around Hermione, who had tears streaming down her face. He saw Mrs. Weasley bawling next to her husband, holding the largest handkerchief he'd ever seen to her eyes. He saw Hagrid, his shoulder's shaking, looking as though the sun would never shine again. He saw Ginny seated between the twins, her head buried in one of their shoulders. And all the while, the only thing that raced through his mind was, _Nononononono!!!_

Harry quickly rushed forward, stopping a few meters behind the pews. He didn't understand...this was totally unreal. He couldn't watch all the people he loved suffer so much. He looked desperately at Dumbledore, who still hadn't noticed him.

"PROFESSOR! PLEASE, JUST _STOP!_" He shouted at the Headmaster. Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence to stare at Harry. Harry could feel the panic starting to fade at the look in the Professor's eyes. "Please, it isn't true, just stop, you're hurting them...I'm alright, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Harry knew he was babbling at this point, but he didn't care. He had to stop this madness. "Please, I'm sorry."

Everyone was staring at him now, unable to move, or speak. A small, contented smile slowly crept across Dumbledore's features. "Harry?" he whispered, still unsure.

Harry nodded.

The Great Hall erupted into shouts, whispers, and cries of joy. Lupin was out of his seat in a heartbeat, his arms wrapped tightly around his best friend's son. A strangled sob escaped his lips, and his tears fell onto the front of Harry's robes.

"Harry!"

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered to the broken man before him, wrapping his arms around his father's only remaining friend. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _I'm sorry..."_


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: HOLY POOP. Please don't kill me for taking half of forever to update this. College is _crazy_. Blah. But I've no intention of dropping out just to please my readers :) Thanks to all my reviewers, and, uh...did I forget to mention this story has a twist? 'Cause this story has a twist. Try to guess what it is, just for my own amusement :)

**Chapter Eleven**

After several hours of reunions ("Harry Potter is alive! Harry Potter is alive!" shrieked Dobby ecstatically), tears ("Hermione, Harry's going to have to ring himself out if you keep crying all over him like that," Ron said, not really caring, a giant grin on his face), scoldings ("Don't you _ever _frighten me like that again!" cried Mrs. Weasley), and an almost violently enthusiastic hug ("Hagrid...I...can't...breathe..." Harry wheezed, feeling his ribs crack slightly), Harry found himself sitting in Dumbledore's office, a cup of tea in hand. The Headmaster sat behind his desk, eyes twinkling brightly, and Remus Lupin sitting in the chair beside him, also cradling a cup of tea. Remus had a contentedly thoughtful look on his face, and seemed more aware of his surroundings than he had in nearly a month, much to the Headmaster's relief.

While everyone else had an immense feeling of relief, Harry felt only anxiety. Walking in on his own memorial service had been a great shock, and he was still trying to gather his wits about him. Everything that had occurred since he'd stepped into the Great Hall seemed to have been nothing but a blur, much in the way the events following the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year had been. Harry stared down into his tea, watching the ripples in the surface of the liquid as his hand trembled slightly. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.

Nothing was said for quite a long time, which was fine by Harry. He was certain he knew the direction this discussion was going to go, and he wasn't really certain what he was going to tell his Headmaster and former Professor. _He _knew the truth – he knew what he'd seen, where he'd been – but he was quite certain no one else would believe him. But what else could he say? He couldn't very well lie, particularly not to these two men. He owed them that much. But then, what was he to say? He took another deep breath. He couldn't do it. Even beyond trying to explain to the Headmaster that he'd spent the last month in the company of an angel in the arctic (which, now that he thought about it, sounded slightly ludicrous, even in his head), he couldn't simply drop the decision he'd been given on Remus. _Yeah, Professor, guess what? I get to bring either my mother, father, or godfather back to life! What do you think? Help me pick which one of your best friends I should pluck out of the after life to be here with us, knowing that the other two will stay dead. _He snorted derisively, thinking how ridiculous this whole situation was, and desperately wishing things were as they had been the summer before his fifth year.

"Harry?" Harry looked up, and noticed the two men looking at him, a concerned look in the Headmaster's eyes. Harry realized that, of course, they had heard him snort, and he sighed and returned his gaze to the cup of tea in his hands. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. _Maybe if I just don't say anything, they'll let me be._

"Harry?" repeated the Headmaster, but Harry refused to look up. He heard Dumbledore place his own cup of tea on his desk. "Harry, I need to ask you where you've been for the last month."

Harry did raise his head then, looking straight into the sparkling blue eyes of his Headmaster. There was a questioning look in those eyes, but Harry still said nothing. He turned around in his chair and looked out one of the several open windows in the office. He stared at the stars shining in the dark sky. His mind went blank.

Harry jumped and dropped his tea cup on the floor when a hand unexpectedly placed itself on his shoulder. Turning sharply, he saw the concerned face of Remus Lupin looking back at him. He softened his own gaze slightly, relaxing his shoulders. He glanced at the floor where his broken tea cup and spilled tea lay.

Lupin placed his hand beneath Harry's chin and forced his to look in his eyes. "Harry," he said slowly, "where have you been?"

Harry didn't move, nor did he answer. Remus stared him down, hoping to make the young man before him answer, but nothing happened. Sighing, he removed his hand and pulled out his wand, repairing the tea cup and cleaning the spilled tea. He placed the cup on the desk in front of them.

"We will wait here, Harry," Dumbledore said seriously, "until you tell us where you've been."

Harry stood up abruptly and went for the door, reaching out for the handle. Lupin was up just as quickly, and put his arms on Harry's, stopping him mid-step. "Harry!" he said sharply.

Harry spun around, pulling his arms away from Lupin's. "Look, there's no point, ok?" he said angrily, body still trembling. "Even if I told you, it's not like you'd believe me." He looked over at the Headmaster. "Either of you."

"Harry, I have always believed you," Dumbledore said, standing. "I've ne-"

"NO!" shouted Harry, pushing past Lupin and standing before Dumbledore. "You didn't trust me last year, did you? DID YOU! You didn't trust me to know...to know...you didn't trust me enough to tell me! To EXPLAIN to me!" He pointed an accusing finger at the Headmaster. His voice lowered to an almost dangerously calm level. "How can I expect you to believe what I say when you don't even trust me? You won't believe me if you don't even trust me. It's as simple as that." He lowered his hand. "Now let me out of your office, _sir_."

Remus was shocked at the outburst from the young man before him. He'd never seen Harry behave in such a manner, though judging from the look in the old man's eyes, Remus suspected Dumbledore had. He stood by the door with his mouth slightly open.

Dumbledore looked very grave. "Very well, Harry," he said quietly, motioning towards the door. It opened itself on its own accord.

Without another word, Harry turned on his heel and rushed past Lupin. He slammed the doors violently behind him as he left.

* * *

Harry angrily ran down past the stone gargoyle, down past a large picture window, and down past several ghosts. When finally he'd calmed down enough to think straight, he turned abruptly and violently kicked a classroom door in.

Why had he gotten so mad? He knew he still harboured much bitterness towards Dumbledore, but he had thought he'd be able to control himself from randomly bursting out in anger. _Stupid hormones..._

He kept walking. _No! _the little part of his mind that sounded like Malfoy said. _No! You were 100 justified. The old man doesn't trust you. Why should you trust him? He doesn't deserve your trust. You did the right thing._

_No I didn't..._

_

* * *

_

Remus continued to stare at the door, amazed that A) Harry had the gall to speak to Dumbledore in such a manner, and B) the doors had remained on their hinges.

Dumbledore sighed behind him. Lupin turned to see him sink into his chair once more.

"I feared something like this would happen," he said quietly, placing his hands around his tea cup. Remus approached the Headmaster's desk and sat in the chair opposite him.

"You did?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "You should have seen him the night we returned from the Ministry of Magic. He destroyed half my office, poor boy."

"Really?" Lupin asked, taken aback.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore. "Between Sirius and the prophecy...it's a wonder he didn't harm himself, or me, for that matter."

Remus just nodded. Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy during the summer, and when they'd heard of Harry's supposed "death", he had feared that all was lost. In more ways than one. For Remus personally, all had been lost. The fact that Harry was, in fact, alive, was nothing short of a miracle for Remus Lupin.

"Remus," said the Headmaster gently, pulling the younger man from his thoughts, "Please go after him. Talk to him. Whatever it is he's hiding, I suspect it isn't something one should keep to oneself. I think he may be more receptive to opening up to you."

Once more, Remus just nodded.

* * *

A/N: On a side note, I want to get this done before HPB comes out. So the more reviews I get, the more likely I am to be motivated to write! No pressure or anything. And I don't want anyone trying to bring me up on typo charges for "harboured" – I am Canadian, and I'm spelling it _properly_! 


	12. Chapter Twelve

A/N: Look at me, being speedy. Though, frankly, I don't know why, it's not like I got more than **five** **bloody reviews** on my first update in months. I'm muttering under my breath, just so you know. Oh, this is _my _fault, is it? Tell it to the flobberworms!

**Chapter Twelve**

Remus Lupin stepped out of the Gargoyle-guarded staircase leading to the Headmaster's office and glanced around nervously. He was more than willing to talk to Harry, but he wasn't entirely sure how to go about finding the young man. He took several cautious steps forward, looking back and forth between the two possible directions Harry might've gone off in in his rage. He would've given his eye teeth to have the Marauder's Map in his hands at that moment. Giving the halls a self-conscious glance, Remus took a delicate sniff at the air. He smelt rage, robes, and hormones to the right. Agreeing with himself that this would probably be the best place to start, he headed down the corridor.

Remus had successfully followed Harry's angered scent down two flights of stairs when he heard a loud **thwack **down the hall to his left. Raising an eyebrow, he followed the noise. He found Harry pacing angrily in front of the kicked-in door of the Charm's classroom, muttering angrily to himself under his breath. Though his mumblings were barely more than a whisper, Lupin's werewolf hearing managed to pick out several words, including "completely justified", "doesn't trust you", and "frustrating old wanker." Slightly taken aback, Remus let out a cough.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts and stopped mid-step to look up at his ex-Professor. Harry felt rather stupid to be caught muttering curses under his breath and beating in doors, and had the good sense to look at his feet and blush. "Umm, hi," he said to the floor.

"Hello, Harry," said Remus in his usual soft-spoken voice. He took several steps towards Harry and pushed the Charms door fully open. "Would you care to join me in here?"

Nodding – again to the floor – Harry turned and entered the Charms classroom, sitting on one of the desktops. Remus turned around and gently closed the door. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Harry.

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Harry started before had a chance.

"Look, you don't have to...I mean, I know I..." Frustrated with himself, Harry stood up and started to pace once more. "I know I'm stupid, alright? I know...maybe he didn't deserve it, ok, and sure, I'm just some hormone-driven teenager, but, with the fate of the world resting on my shoulders!..." He sighed and sat back down on the desk. "I just...get fed up. Y'know?" he said quietly, looking at Remus with large, saucer-like eyes.

Remus smiled sympathetically and walked up to Harry, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Yes, I know," he said wearily, sitting in the chair in front of Harry. "I had much the same feelings the night – well, the night that Sirius died." The last two words came out somewhat strangled, and Lupin cleared his throat, looking at his knees. "But he really does just want what's best..." Lupin trailed off. Harry wasn't reacting to him in any way. Coughing awkwardly, Remus lifted his head to look Harry in the eye.

Silent tears were streaming down Harry's face, and he looked about as embarrassed as humanly possible. "I miss Sirius so much," he croaked. Remus felt as though a hand had grabbed his heart and was squeezing it for all its worth. "And I just felt so dreadful, worrying everyone, making them think I was dead..." He shook his head angrily and wiped at his tears with the sleeve of his robes. "Especially you," he whispered, looking Remus straight in the eye.

Remus Lupin was speechless. The only even remotely sensible thought that came to his head was to wipe away Harry's tears, which he did, delicately with the tips of his fingers. Harry looked even more miserable and dropped his own gaze to his knees. "And...I can't imagine making you any more weary than you already are," Harry said sadly.

"Harry," said Lupin gently, "I promise you that you can tell me _anything at all_ that you feel you need to, and I should hope that you wouldn't worry about any pressure it puts me under." Harry lifted his head. "Right now," Lupin said, smiling, "my greatest concern is the pressure _you _are under, for it is far greater than most wizards ever experience in their entire lifetimes."

Harry nodded. "Good," said Remus, relaxing slightly. "Now, I know you're reluctant, and I know that I'm probably just going to sound like a repeat of Dumbledore – and, to be frank, Dumbledore did ask me to come and ask you...Harry, where were you?"

Harry looked at Remus, opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and shut it. He looked confused. "Harry, please-"

"It's not that I don't _want _to tell you, Prof-er, Remus," Harry said uncertainly, and Remus nodded for him to continue. "I do want to. And I trust you. It's just that..." He seemed to be looking for the right words. "I was there, and I saw it, and _I know it happened_, but...it even sounds stupid in my head."

Remus chuckled then, much to Harry's surprise. "You mean, like 'My best friend's rat is my Dad's old school chum'?" Remus asked. Harry laughed.

"Well, yeah, I guess when you put it like that, yeah." Harry took a deep breath.

"Where were you, Harry?" Remus asked. Not in an accusing way, or a need-to-know way. Simply out of curiosity.

"I was in the arctic with an angel," Harry said matter-of-factly, "and she told me that the powers that be will let me resurrect my mother, my father, or my godfather."

There was a very, very long and empty silence in the classroom.

Harry coughed.

"Told you it sounded stupid."

Remus shook his head several times, mouth open, trying to get words to come out. After several attempts of nothing, he closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Opening both his eyes and his mouth, he tried again.

"Right, well..."

"I told you it sounded stupid," Harry said again.

"No! It's just..." He looked Harry in the eyes. Harry looked back. "You were in the arctic."

"In the arctic."

"With...an angel?"

"With an angel."

"Who said-"

"Who said that I could resurrect Mum, Dad, or Sirius," Harry said, as though reciting potions ingredients.

There was another long, awkward silence.

"You're sure?" Remus asked curiously.

"I'm _sure_," Harry answered firmly.

More silence.

"Well, that clears that up, then," said Remus, completely baffled.

After _even more bloody silence_, much to Harry's concern, Remus stood up and smiled cheerfully.

"Shall we go tell the Headmaster, then?" he asked, sounding slightly mad. Harry stood up next to him and tugged at his sleeve.

"Um, Remus," he asked, extremely worried for the older man's mental well-being, "Are you alright?"

"No, Harry," Remus said faintly, "I don't suppose I am."

"Right," said Harry, grabbing Lupin by the arm and pulling him out the door and up the hallway, "To the Headmaster's office, then, was it?"

"No," said Remus, pulling his arm out of Harry's grip. "No, Harry, I have changed my mind. I believe a trip to Madame Pomphrey in the hospital wing is what I need right now. And a very strong dreamless sleep draught."

"Absolutely spiffing," said Harry, in his best Wesley Twins impression. "I could go for some of that as well, I think." He pulled Lupin in the opposite direction down the hall.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Aww, sweet reviewers – you do care! And I'm glad you responded well to the lighter tone at the end of my last chapter – I felt it needed a bit of a fluffy moment. Poor Harry and Remus are gonna need some _serious_ group therapy by the time I'm done with them if I don't lighten up :)

**Chapter Thirteen**

"You don't suppose he's going to jump, do you?"

"I dunno, mate, he does look a bit grim, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, and his legs are hanging quite a ways off there."

"I bet he's just waiting 'til he gets the right leverage, and the wind is just perfect. All the Quidditch training, it really goes to your head."

"Come off it, you two...he wouldn't _really _do anything like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure, myself. The bloke's been through a lot."

"Yeah, and I mean, think of the headlines! 'Month after presumed dead, Harry Potter actualizes Prophet Headlines.' Bet nobody saw _that _coming!"

"Honestly, you two. Of all the things to joke about, I'd think Harry's hardships would be the last thing you'd pick. Especially after all that garbage in the Prophet last year. And besides, you're going to frighten your sister."

"Relax, Hermione! She's a tough little shi- uh, she's tough."

"He really has been through an awful lot, hasn't he?"

"He's made out of stronger stuff than you think, Gin. He'll pull through."

"Especially with all us here to help him through it."

"Except for the fact that he's doing his very best to avoid us..."

"Bloody hell and bugger it all," Ron muttered under his breath, still looking up at the Astronomy Tower.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George were sitting together in one of Hogwarts many courtyards, enjoying the sweet air and sunshine of late August. Harry had been "alive" for nearly two days, and school was starting up in less than a week. While the group of Gryffindors (or former Gryffindors, in the twins' case) had hoped their not-so-dead friend would join them, they had been unable to find him. When they got outside, Ginny had been the first to notice the lone figure perched atop the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling over the side.

None of them knew what had happened the night of Harry's return, when Dumbledore had whisked him and Remus Lupin away to his office. All they knew was that Harry was always lost in thought, always giving excuse to be somewhere else, and Lupin was still looking nearly as grim as he had when they'd presumed Harry to be dead. The group had thought they would've seen the most dramatic change in Lupin, of all people, after Harry's return, but he seemed just as distant as before. The only times when either Remus or Harry were ever remotely coherent was when the two were together, whispering in a corner, discussing who-knew-what.

Of the five of them, Ron was showing the most concern for his best friend. He would spend long hours searching the castle for Harry, only for Harry to find a fast excuse to be off elsewhere. He'd stay up the nights in the Gryffindor common room, staring at the fire, waiting for Harry to return. Ron knew – as did most everyone else – that he wasn't good with the emotional, touch-feely side of things. However, he was concerned for his friend, and he didn't know what to do about it. Which upset him.

"Y'know", George whispered conspiratorially to his twin, "we should just sneak up there, come up behind him, and give him a big, loud, 'HEY HARRY!' and see what happens."

A resounding **smack** echoed about the courtyard as Ginny's open palm made contact with the side of George's head.

* * *

Harry stared down the length of the castles at his friends in the courtyard, wishing that he wasn't so wrapped up in his own world. He longed to go talk with them, laugh with them, and enjoy the lovely summer day. But he couldn't. There was far too much on his mind, and he knew that he had to take advantage of what little time he'd been given to contemplate his decision.

He and Professor Lupin – _Remus_, he reminded himself – had been discussing the situation on and off over the past two days, but Harry had taken much more solace in wandering around the castle aimlessly, lost in his own thoughts. He was almost bitter at Them (as he had dubbed those-who-had-given-him-this-choice) for putting the extra pressure on him, as though he didn't have enough. He knew that They had, in fact, given him a wonderful gift, but at what cost?

He couldn't imagine bringing back one of his parents and not the other. What sort of guilt would that put him under? Besides the fact that they'd been dead for fifteen years. Where were they now? Perhaps they didn't want to be snatched from the comfort of heaven, or the presence of their spouse, or _both_.

On the flip side, Sirius had only been dead a few months. And Harry knew, he knew in his heart, that Sirius _had _to miss him and Remus as much as they missed him. But could Harry really justify bringing back his godfather than one of his actual _parents_?

It was far too much for one sixteen year old to have to deal with. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, massaging his temples.

"Harry?" a soft voice came from behind him. It was a voice he'd grown accustomed to hearing over the past two days. He turned around and gave Remus Lupin a small smile.

"Hey, Moony," he said, sliding over on the edge of the tower. Remus smiled and sat down next to him. They sat in comfortable silence for a long while, both of their gazes remaining on the group in the courtyard.

"Your friends are worried about you, you know," Remus said at last. He turned his head towards Harry. "Particularly Ron."

"Why, Moony, you haven't been spying and eaves dropping, have you?" Harry said, trying to keep thing light-hearted. Remus chuckled.

"All part of being a Professor, Harry." His smile faded slightly. "You really should be spending more time with them.

Harry sighed. "I _know_, I just...I feel like there's so much riding on this decision. I've only got five days – _five days!_ Time seems to be slipping through my fingers."

"I know," Remus whispered. He let out a weary sigh. "Harry, I just want you to know that whatever choice you make, I support it whole-heartedly. There is no wrong choice. There is only what is best for you."

"And you," Harry said immediately, not even thinking.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," was all Remus said.

There was silence again, for a time.

"Did you tell Dumbledore?" Harry asked, still staring at his friends.

"No, I didn't."

This surprised Harry. "But, I thought...I mean, didn't Dumbledore send you after me that night? I figured you would've spoken to him as soon as-"

"I had intended to," Remus said wearily, "but I realized something, Harry. This decision doesn't affect Dumbledore. It has nothing to do with him. It is primarily about _you_."

"_And you_," Harry said once again, more firmly. Remus didn't disagree.

"The point is that no-one can make this decision for you. I want as few outside opinions as possible to sway your decision," Remus said seriously. "This choice must come from within your heart – no-one else's."

Harry nodded his understanding. In light of what his former Professor had just told him, Harry felt a little foolish asking his next question. However, he had a need for it to be said.

"Remus, what would you do?"

Nothing was said for a few moments.

"Harry, in all honesty, I would most likely weep."

* * *

A/N: HOLY POOP. That was hard. Someone knocked on my door just as I went to write this, and when I opened it, they said, "Hello, my name is Writers Block, and I HAVE COME TO HAUNT YOU FOREVER! MWAHAHAHA!" So I was a little distraught, to say the least. Please review – third update in the past week! After months of nothing! You should be kissing the hem of my robes, you junkies you :) 


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